


let’s wash the taste of blood from our guilty mouths

by rosyasteria



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Blood God Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Derealization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Enderman Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Major Character Injury, Past Violence, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Scars, Shapeshifter Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:49:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyasteria/pseuds/rosyasteria
Summary: “You- you have to, leave me- I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, I’m sorry-“ He blurted, not recognising his own voice as he spoke, the words garbled and foreign, guttural.“Breathe. You are safe.” Techno said in the same, strange language. Oh. It was Ender. He’d been speaking Ender; and Techno was comforting him, in Ender. How strange.In which Ranboo struggles with his troubles, and Technoblade and Phil care for him.
Relationships: Niki | Nihachu & Ranboo, Ranboo & Dave | Technoblade, Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 2090
Collections: Completed stories I've read, The Reasons For My Insomnia





	let’s wash the taste of blood from our guilty mouths

Technoblade had noticed the little hut behind his cottage the moment he’d gotten back from his excursion to collect ghast tears. The house Tommy and Ghostbur had built still stood, and the _second_ the kennel was built he was taking it down with his bare hands. Phil needed his own home and there was no way Techno was letting him stay in that place any longer. The small hut a ways away was barely even that; it was a snow roof, at most. Upon noticing it one day, Phil had nodded to himself as if he’d realised something, and waded through the snow to Techno’s side.

“Ranboo. I offered him a place to stay, he didn’t feel safe back  _ there _ . Reminded me of you, in a way.” He explained, looking over at the sheltered spot where the hybrid boy was reading through an enchanted book and admiring his newly glimmering axe, like the one he’d been gifted.

“Whaddya mean?” Techno asked, brows furrowed, guiding Phil inside the cottage so he could deposit the ghast tears into his chest.

“Well, he’s strong. And brave. And he’s stubborn, too. He needs guidance. There’s something going on with him and I’m worried.” Phil said, leaning against the rungs of the ladder on Techno’s wall.

“Something goin’ on with him? Like what?” Techno sat on his anvil, refilling one of the brewing stands as he talked.

“I handed him some obsidian since he needed building materials, he jumped away from it. He  then  gave me his memory book as if I would take it from him- said I had to read it or I couldn’t trust him, that sort of thing.” Phil said, fiddling with his emerald earring.

“Did you?”

“What.”

“Read it.” 

“Of course I didn’t. He’s clearly dealing with something. What do we do?” Phil chided.

“ _Well_ \- we could start by giving the kid a decent place to live, he’ll catch his death under a few planks of wood. First though: dinner, he’s too thin for enderman standards and I should know, I lived with one.” Techno said, smiling sadly.

“I fished over at the far portal earlier so there’s some salmon and cod in the ice out front.” Phil noted, Techno nodding in response as he got some potatoes out and set them in his lap.

“I’m gonna go downstairs and trade for a bit- see you later mate.” 

Techno nodded, taking a small knife from his hip and getting to peeling the potatoes in his lap. As he did so he thought about Ranboo. Not in a violent way, he just wondered about the kid. There wasn’t any extra reason why he could’ve been scared of Techno; he was Techno, he scared _everyone_ , but he was jumpy and frightened far more than normal. Then there was the obsidian ordeal and the book. They’d get to talking about it sometime, Techno wouldn’t rush the kid.

On Ranboo’s end, it was just as hectic; meaning it wasn’t hectic at all. He’d given Technoblade the axe he’d made for him the previous day, then gone on an excursion to find totems. It wasn’t _that_ scary, only a little, but not nearly as scary as Ranboo was expecting. Techno was  nice . From all the stories he’d been told back when he stayed in L’Manburg, he’d had an idea in his head of how Techno ran things. Cutthroat, strict, violent, not joking about abandoning Ranboo outside a woodland mansion then calmly reassuring he wouldn’t leave him behind, not making sure he had the right equipment and was doing okay taking down Evokers on himself. Everything but what Ranboo had seen with his own eyes had been lies. Quackity had told him Techno was vicious and cruel, had shown him the messily cauterised hole in his face, the now scarred over gouge in his mouth that you could see cleanly through, the two missing teeth and the surrounding cracked ones. Tubbo had even unravelled his bandages one night and shown Ranboo the burn scars that spidered up his chest and arms, up his neck, to claw up his right cheek and just miss his eye. The skin had _clearly_ melted, and Ranboo had noticed the President’s awkward gait as he reached to grab things, or twist his torso. Techno had done both of those things with no remorse, and yet Ranboo wasn’t worried for his own safety one bit. He even _trusted_ Technoblade, which was a weird thing to think about after the recent happenings.

Aside from the kindness and the overflowing amount of gratitude Techno had expressed upon receiving a new axe from Ranboo, he’d also watched Techno shove a thick, dark lump of fabric into a chest and slam it closed before Ranboo could get a good look at it. He’d then distracted Ranboo from the subject entirely by talking about woodland mansion maps, and the roll of fabric had been forgotten. Ranboo shrugged from where he sat on his bed, damp from the snow, skin stinging as it melted and then sizzled painfully on his skin. Enchanting always made him sweat, which hurt anyway, but he’d taken his blazer off and it had fallen into the snow as he worked, now unwearable until he found the time to dry it over the campfire. Pulling his sleeves as far down his arms as they’d go, he shivered, looking out at the expanse of snowy land around him. The sun was starting to set now, and that meant another sleepless night for him. Endermen didn’t really need that much sleep anyway, but Ranboo hadn’t managed to get a wink for days now, jumpy over L’Manburg, over Dream, over whether Techno would find him useful enough to not behead him and watch his black blood spill into the snow. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and pushed until he saw stars, sighing.

When he looked up, he saw Phil making his way over, armour off, but with his sword in its scabbard at his hip. As he got closer Ranboo noticed his hair; he’d taken his hat off. It was long and blond, he knew that, but without the hat he could see a small braid at the back of his head, one he’d spotted in Tommy’s hair at the community house confrontation. The thought made his heart stutter a little. They really were a family. 

Phil smiled softly at Ranboo as he approached his hut.

“Hungry?” He asked, leaving Ranboo floundering for words. He’d expected Phil to ask for the memory book, he had thrust it into the older man’s hands hours earlier and gotten instantly refused. He let his brain catch up, and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I have some carrots here, wouldn’t want to be a burden.” He said, refusing to meet Phil’s eyes, but this time not because of his heritage. Phil rolled his eyes, looking far younger than he was.

“Come on, up, we wouldn’t be very good people if we didn’t feed you, you’re a skinny kid.” Ranboo rose at Phil’s words, not wanting to anger him. As they walked the short distance to Techno’s cottage, snow stinging his skin, Ranboo took Phil in. In the heat of battle and gunpowder and brimstone, Ranboo just noticed the shining netherite everyone had buckled to their bodies, but now, weather chilled, breathing calmly, Phil looked nice. He always looked nice, fatherhood would do that to a man, he guessed, but without the war-hardened glint in his eye Phil looked warm, like he was just another man caring for a stray he’d taken in off the streets. He was wearing a simple, dark green co-ord that resembled martial arts uniforms, and a black robe that split down the middle of the back to reveal his wings, massive, black, feathered things that brushed the snowy ground as they walked. Ranboo hadn’t changed out of his suit once upon arriving at Techno’s land, all his other suits were burned to ash during the destruction of L’Manburg, and the one he was wearing was was getting a little threadbare and dirty.

He shook those thoughts from his head as they got to Techno’s door. Phil opened it and ushered Ranboo inside, the teen stumbling slightly as he did so, adjusting his wonky crown as he stood up straight. There was a wooden table filling the small space, with plates piled high atop it. There were towers of what looked like smoked salmon and cod, a few bowls of mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. Ranboo’s stomach grumbled, making Phil snigger from behind him, patting his back warmly as he slid past him and sat at the table to Techno’s right. Ranboo just stood and stared for a second. He’d never properly seen Technoblade like this before. Yesterday he had, when they’d gone to the woodland mansion to get totems, but they never had a chance to sit and chill for a bit. Any other time Ranboo had seen Techno the man had been in pig form, big bovine head with bloodied tusks and at least a half a foot taller than he was now; but now he was far more human. He was lithe, but strong, wearing just his white ruffle-collar button up and trousers, cloak hung by the door, and his hair wasn’t braided like the previous day, it hung long down to his waist, wavy and slightly damp, Ranboo guessed from washing it; and right there, tucked behind his ear, was a matching braid to Phil and Tommy’s. He stared at Ranboo expectantly, golden wire-frame glasses balanced on his nose, secured around his neck with a thin gold chain inlaid with rubies at regular intervals. Two small tusks poked up from Techno’s lower lip. Ranboo was released from his frozen stupor.

“Yes- sorry. Good evening.” He hurried over, sitting to Techno’s left, unsure of what to do once he’d sat down. Phil started chuckling from his seat, hiding it with his fist.

“Eat- _one_ , you’re a guest, _two_ , I could snap you like a twig.” Techno urged, looking at Ranboo with an expression the boy couldn’t place. Ranboo swallowed nervously, before piling food onto his plate: a full salmon and a hearty few spoonfuls of mashed potato, mumbling about how Techno could snap  _ anyone _ like a twig. He then added some veg after feeling Phil’s judgemental glare fix onto his head. Once he’d taken his first mouthful his new guardians started filling their plates and eating with him. Ranboo slowly piled more food onto his own and kept eating, realising he couldn’t remember when his last proper meal had been.

No one talked, it was quite a comfortable silence, the only noise being muted chewing and the crackling of the fire in the hearth behind Techno. Around ten minutes into eating Techno got up, grabbing three empty bottles from beside a brewing stand and plunging them into a cauldron of water to fill them. Ranboo watched him turn, sit, and then place the bottles on the tabletop, the uncorked glassware sloshing the liquid onto the wood. He rolled his wet sleeves to his elbows, and carried on eating, so Ranboo followed suit after taking a hearty few gulps from his bottle. The water in this area was far nicer than L’Manburg’s, it was fresher, and didn’t have the aftertaste of ash. Ranboo felt a pang of guilt at that. But ignored it in favour of shovelling his dinner into his mouth. The only meal he’d had that rivalled this was from Niki, his sister. Her main reputation over there came from her food. She was probably the person he missed the most right now. Ranboo thought back to his life in L’Manburg, back before his life went to shit, before Dream. He wasn’t even sure if that nagging voice in his head was  really  Dream or just some sick part of his brain not doing what it was supposed to. He hated it, he loathed it. He loathed  _ Dream _ . Was he even real? He or Dream? It was difficult to think about, gave him a splitting headache, made bile rise into his throat every time it crossed his mind. He wanted to gouge the god’s chest out with his claws, hoped if he did that then maybe the voice would leave him be, hoped that if he ripped his organs out, unhinged his jaw and bit down on the man’s head, crushed it between blackened teeth, that he’d finally feel some respite. The rage grew in his chest, it felt like a storm, like a hurricane brewing in the hollow space between his ribs, and it _hurt_. With the pain came the anger, and his head felt as if it was about to split open as hushed voices rose in volume and quantity as they crawled their way to the forefront of his headspace. He’d never felt this before. It was alien and scary, and his heart fluttered against his ribcage as he panicked. He felt his back crash against something.

“Ranboo. You alright?” Came Techno’s voice, sounding too far away. He was right next to him, why did he sound so far away? He blinked. His jaw hurt. As his eyes focused, he felt his heart drop.

The table he’d been sat at with Phil and Techno, his _carers_ , was upturned. Food was thrown across the carpeted floor. Ranboo was in a corner, bracketed against Techno’s ender chest and Techno himself. Ranboo looked down. He’d grown at least half a foot, head bowing against the ceiling, jaw unhinged and spitting purple particles that swarmed around him like gnats. His shirt had ripped with the height growth, elongated fingers brushing against the floor, and he felt his eyes fill with tears that stung painfully as they fell down his cheeks. He looked at Technoblade, who had lowered his head not in fear, but out of what looked like respect? Ranboo didn’t understand, that was the last thing he deserved at this moment, he deserved to be taken out back and shot like a lame horse. Techno didn’t look scared of him. He hadn’t even grabbed a weapon, Ranboo could see the hunting knife on the man’s hip, he hadn’t even shown signs of wanting to reach for it. He was insane. Ranboo started to shake.

“You- you have to, leave me- I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, I’m sorry-“ He blurted, not recognising his own voice as he spoke, the words garbled and foreign, guttural.

“Breathe. You are safe.” Techno said in the same, strange language.  Oh . It was Ender. He’d been speaking Ender; and Techno was comforting him, in Ender. How strange. He felt the blood that had rushed to his head disperse, and breathed in deeply as Techno had urged. The purple particles around him dispersed slowly, and he felt his point of view shrink, his body returning to its usual state. He shook, legs barely holding him up. As his eyes adjusted he noticed Phil behind Techno, calm as ever, worried as if Ranboo didn’t just flip their dinner table and transform into whatever that was; he’d never done that before. He felt his body sag, and was shocked when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him and just  _ hold _ . That was nice. It felt nice. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was held with this level of care. Maybe years ago, back in his home with Niki, before she’d left to go on her adventure.

Ranboo took a few breaths, shaky ones, before prying Techno off him and stumbling back, losing his footing. Techno caught him again, gripping his upper arms and holding him at a length, unsure as to whether cradling him again would cause any issues. The tears on Ranboo’s face continued to fall, audibly sizzling as they slid down his cheeks. He felt abnormally cold in his ripped shirt, and his joints hurt. He hurt. He felt as if he could pass out any second.

“Can you hear me?” Techno asked, in English this time. Ranboo nodded, lifting a hand to wipe at the stinging tears.

“Alright, come on.” He urged, guiding Ranboo towards what he knew was the front door. As he reached for the handle, Techno pulled him aside, making him face the ladder.

“You good to climb up here? Got any strength left?” Techno asked, face turning from worried to relieved as Ranboo nodded again, reaching for the rungs instead and slowly working his way upwards, peeking up into what looked like Techno’s personal room. He spotted a bell, and some bookshelves, an enchantment table, a bed.

“Get some rest.” Techno said from the second floor, the sounds of the table being righted and food being scraped up almost drowning his voice out. Ranboo blushed pink.

“But this is  your bed- I can’t-“

“Go to sleep, Ranboo.”

“Technoblade-“

“ _ Ranboo _ !” Technoblade snapped. The conversation was clearly over. The pig man disappeared from the ladder’s opening, and Ranboo stood there for a while longer, legs trembling, before curling up atop the quilt of the bed and dropping off to sleep.

Downstairs, Techno had perched atop his potions chest again, and was worrying his fingers, picking at old scars. He stopped when Phil passed him and smacked his hands. He glared at the man for a second before his face dropped.

“I’m worried about him.” Techno sighed, voice hushed. Phil nodded from where he’d righted the table and sat on it, food now cleaned up and anything salvageable set aside.

“We’re going to have to talk to him tomorrow- can’t just let him deal with that shit on his own, did you  _ see  _ what he turned into?” Phil whispered, visibly upset.

“Like me.” Techno murmured, thinking back on his own shape shifting abilities, how much it had messed with him when he’d been young, how the body modification process had scarred him physically before any wars had, before he’d learned how to control it. He’d had no one to bring him down from it, either.

“I am  _not_ lettin’ him go through that on his own.” He added, looking at Phil and feeling relieved at the answering nod.

“Somethings up, we’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough, but for now making sure the kid is not tearing himself apart is the main priority, yeah?” Phil said, standing up and picking a slice of carrot from his shirt, throwing it out the window and watching a rabbit run at it.

“Got an extra bed, you coming over?” Phil asked, nodding at Techno’s shake of his head.

“Don’t want him to wake up on his own. I got a spare anyway.” He smiled softly, giving his friend a hug and watching him traverse the whole five steps to Ghostbur and Tommy’s half built house. They  really had to take that down soon, it was stupid how much it was bringing down the property value. He shut the doors. Grabbing a bed from a chest, Techno set it down and promptly collapsed into it, drifting into sleep not long after.

He woke the next morning to Ranboo, in his ripped up shirt and dirty trousers, trying to sneak out the front door.

“Come back inside.” He said, voice sleepy and cracked. Ranboo immediately came back in, shutting the door and looking sheepish. Techno got out of bed, cracking his joints as he stood and dug through a chest, pulling out a folded bundle.

“ _Look_ \- I know you’re not gonna tell me anythin’ and I don’t blame you, you’re not gonna trust me after a few days of livin’ in my back yard, so take these, and know I’ll be here whenever you want to talk. Not just about last night, but anythin’. I’m not as good as Phil but I’m tryin’ alright?” Techno handed over the gift, watching Ranboo hesitantly unfold it.

Ranboo pulled at the bundle, recognising the thing wrapping it was the same purple fabric he’d spotted those few days ago, the fabric Techno had stuffed away to hide. There was a suit, pressed and folded neatly. A shirt, one that had ruffles like Techno’s, a pair of black trousers far cleaner than the ones he was currently wearing, a dark purple, almost black waistcoat, and a black blazer jacket to match. Once he’d tucked those beneath his arm he shook out the purple fabric wrapping, realising it wasn’t a wrap at all. He moved it around in his hands until he got it the right direction. It was a cloak. It’s length was to his hips, the same shade as the waistcoat, and thick enough that any snow or rain that penetrated it wouldn’t even touch Ranboo’s skin. He turned it to look at the hood, noticing how it would be big enough to cover his head and then some, so slanted rainfall wouldn’t hit him either. It buttoned at the neck with an emerald. 

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Ranboo said, jaw open with shock.

“Then don’t say anything. Take _this_ ,” Techno handed him a box of food Phil had packed up as he cleaned the night previous, “And change out of those dirty clothes, we live in the tundra, it’s cold.” He said, smiling as Ranboo nodded obediently and left the cottage. Techno watched him make his way to that stupid, small snowroof, and vowed to build him a better place. Well, to  _ help  _ him build a better place, he wasn’t Ranboo’s lackey; he wasn’t  _ anyone’s  _ lackey, to be clear. He then collapsed back into his bed, and hoped to get at least two hours more sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hi ! im link, im an 18 year old nonbinary college student from england and writing is one of my favourite hobbies so i love posting to make other people happy!
> 
> my twitter is @ORPHANBLADE if you want to give me a follow!


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